


show me what you've got (so i can catch you when we fall)

by sungeskonnte



Category: Voltron: Defenders of Tomorrow, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Minor Violence, Strangers to Lovers, i literally dont know how to tag this, someone come and put me out of my misery already, someone just gets an injury nothing serious, well it's implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 11:44:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sungeskonnte/pseuds/sungeskonnte
Summary: Leandro's running again, despite his now weakened condition– he needs to run, needs to get out of here, even if he gets wounded. The drones have spotted him; they're starting to take aim in his direction. Surely, he's screwed for real now. He closes his eyes, braces for the worst, until–“Hey.”-------or; the origins and development of akira and leandro's relationship, written for the klance february prompt (day 20: leandro/akira).





	show me what you've got (so i can catch you when we fall)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fauxghost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauxghost/gifts), [astralscrivener](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralscrivener/gifts), [Cxnfiscated](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cxnfiscated/gifts).



> oh boy.
> 
> this was a fic i was neither planning to write or finish. i'm way more invested in original work, but i thought this would be good practice for me, and boy was i wrong  
> i started writing this in november, and it is now february. it took me so long to write this simply because with the downgrading quality of voltron i felt myself less motivated to finish this to the point where i even left the fandom. but i finished it, thanks to the support of many + the klance february prompt, and even though it's probably the worst thing i've ever written, i'm glad it's finished. by the way i didn't proofread this we die like men (i also apologize beforehand for any grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language).
> 
> i'm dedicating this fic to sher, eileen and manu. without you three, this fanfic would have never seen the light of day. thank you for being so supportive of me and just being writing inspirations in general.
> 
> and to everyone else, i hope you enjoy!

**i.** **meeting**  

When Leandro meets Akira for the first time, it's in a street full of drones and gunfire. He's running around, looking for cover; despite the currently mild circumstances, he'll eventually die if he doesn't find a place to hide. The shots are growing louder, ringing in his ears like an early morning alarm, causing his heart to pound erratically. Sweat drips from his face onto concrete in a _plip plop_ beat as his breathing becomes ragged, his movements slower and more exhausted. If he keeps up at this rate, he won't make it out alive.

 

Leandro's running again, despite his now weakened condition– he _needs_ to run, needs to get out of here, even if he gets wounded. The drones have spotted him; they're starting to take aim in his direction. Surely, he's screwed for real now. He closes his eyes, braces for the worst, until–

 

“Hey.”

 

A short, slender figure leaning on a rumbling motorcycle approaches him, their inky violet eyes boring into Leandro's own. Their hair is pitch black, messily tied up in a ponytail (this person _really_ doesn't look like the type that takes care of themselves often). They're wearing a bright, baggy jacket, which seems too oversized for them, but they look good in it anyway, and their hands are adorned with murky fingerless gloves (leather ones, he assumes). A pair of goggles decorates their forehead, reflecting the artificial light shining at them. They seem like an assassin of some sorts, judging from the knives peeking out of their jacket's pocket. Sketchy.

 

“....Hello? Have we met before? Am I supposed to know you? I don't think we've seen each other before, although that is quite the gorgeous face–”

 

Interrupting Leandro's rambling, the stranger sighs loudly, muttering inaudible nonsense under their breath. They cast a glance to the side, frown forming on their face, before worriedly looking back at him. For someone he's never met before, they seem overly concerned about him, although their expression hints at slight annoyance.

 

“Look, I don't know you, but if you don't want to die from those drones, get on my bike. We don't have much time left.”

 

Okay, what the _hell?_ Is this person crazy? Asking Leandro to tag along with them so casually; are they with the government, trying to kidnap him or something? He's spent a while running from them; it would be a disaster if he was brought in right now. And honestly, if he had to choose between dying from the drones and getting kidnapped by this guy, he'd go for the drones. Getting kidnapped by the government would be death. It would be _worse_ than death. A sudden wave of regret washes over him; trying to hit on them was _definitely_ a bad idea. If he could go back in time, he’d immediately slap past Leandro in the face.

 

“Nuh-uh! No fuckin' way! How do I know you're not some sketchy dude who's working with the government, trying to kidnap me? You're certainly not a goody-two-shoes; I can tell by those suspicious lookin' knives in your pockets! What the hell's your deal?” Leandro panics, flailing his arms around as he points out all the wrongs he can think from the top of his head. Can't blame a guy for being overly wary, right? He's simply taking precautions.

 

“..What if I told you I was running from the government as well?” An instant response, _so it must be a lie,_ Leandro thinks. They're growing irritated, fidgeting with their jacket sleeve; a natural reaction, since the drones are closing in on them, and they don’t have much time to waste.

 

“And why exactly should I believe something like that–”

 

He's startled by a sudden slam echoing through his ears; this person just doesn't know how to stay quiet. Their expression morphs into an agitated one as the person knits their eyebrows in pure annoyance. They look like they're about to yell at him, and before he can stop them and apologize, they do.

 

" _Listen_ , I _said_ we don't have much time. You can either trust me and get on my bike, or say no and fight those drones on your own. I'm trying to _help,_ and if all you're going to do is stand there, I'll take my leave, _okay?”_

 

The sheer tone of their voice makes Leandro curl up on himself, feeling as if a bucket filled with thick guilt and shame was poured over him, staining his features. He takes a shy step, bobbing his head. Maybe he can trust this person after all, he thinks. The stranger grabs his wrist and hauls him closer to the bike, ushering him to get on, movements impatient.

 

Leandro hastily positions himself on the bike, scrambling for something to hold on to. He could hold onto the stranger, although he doesn't fully trust them yet, but before he finds something solid, the stranger hauls him forward, positioning his arms so they're snaked around their waist. He hears the low rumbling of the bike, feels it shaking in his body, making him skittish.

 

“Hold on, I tend to go fast,” they say.

 

Leandro squeezes tightly, and soon, they're off.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The ride is mostly filled with awkward silence, besides Leandro occasionally shooting a drone in the distance. It feels nice, somehow; even though he's riding with a complete stranger, and drones are chasing after them. A calm, warm feeling spreads across his chest; he senses the familiarity of it, yet he’s never done something like this before. However, the stranger’s reticence scares him; they haven’t uttered a single word since hauling him on the bike. One would say they’re focused on driving, although they seem oddly idle in comparison to when they were arguing with him moments ago. Leandro thinks of starting small talk, but they look like the type of person who doesn’t enjoy such discussion.

 

Instead, he opts for silence, letting himself enjoy the last of the drive. The drones seem to have decreased in number to the point where there are almost none left. Leandro allows himself to zone out. But as if right on cue, that’s when the motorcycle stops.

 

“We’re here. They shouldn’t be able to get us now, so you can wind down.”

 

Jumping off the bike, Leandro decides that he’s had enough action for today and sits down on the cool concrete. The stranger follows close behind, settling on a spot fairly near, and faces towards him. Gathering up the small amount of courage he has left, he breaks the lengthy silence by asking a question.

 

“So, I guess this means we’re kind of working together now, huh? We’re a team. I _still_ don’t know why you decided to save me, though… Oh! We never introduced ourselves! Hey, what’s your name?”

 

The stranger continues gazing at him, and Leandro thinks he isn’t going to respond, but he does.

 

“You talk too much.”

 

“Wh– _Hey!_ I asked for a _name,_ not an _opinion!”_

 

To his surprise, they snort at that. Leandro’s lips widen a fraction.

 

“If you _really_ need to know a guy’s name that badly, though,” they begin, holding their hand out, “my name’s Akira.”

 

Taking _his_ hand firmly, Leandro starts to shake it; “Nice to meet you! The name’s Leandro.”

 

For the first time in a while, he doesn’t feel lonely anymore.

 

**ii. friendship**

Getting used to Akira’s constant company wasn’t easy. He was a hothead, just like Leandro predicted. Stubborn to the core, he’d always try to change his opinions on something completely trivial. Whenever the two weren’t fighting for their lives (Leandro had to admit, they made a remarkably good team during combat), they’d _always_ argue. Despite all that, Akira felt remarkably distant. He wasn’t a fan of talking about himself, preferring to listen as Leandro spoke, rambling about his interests or the memories he had from back home. It made him think that, regardless of Akira saving him back then, he had no interest in their relationship growing any closer than two acquaintances who don’t wish for each other to die.

 

This didn’t make him _upset,_ per se, it’s just that he... disliked it. If they considered themselves a team, they weren’t a cooperative one, outside of battle. He’d _tried_ to make Akira open up a few times, but his attempts were futile. Leandro respected people’s privacy though, so leaving him to initiate conversation on his own seemed to be the best option.

 

Until he came to the conclusion that such an accord made matters worse. Now, the two would barely even speak, since Leandro was the one who usually began discussions. He’d hate to admit it, but he missed their banter; the way Akira would get riled up over it, usually ending his arguments with a pout or friendly scoff. It was kind of cute, actually, and the memory of it made Leandro want to break down his walls even more.

 

So, he made a decision; he was going to fix this. Approach him while they’re resting in one of their hideouts, and just normally talk about it. That’s pitifully easy, nothing Leandro can’t do.

 

But when the time came to do so, a sudden rush of anxiety bubbled up inside his chest, threatening to spill out any minute. It felt ugly and heavy, tightening around him, making it hard to breathe. Everything began to blur, the sight of his surroundings growing more and more unclear. Regardless of that, he wanted to speak, wanted to utter _something,_ but every attempt ended in a shaky exhale. This was the most embarrassing moment in his life; he was overreacting because of a minor interaction he had to accomplish, and he’s probably never going to hear the end of this when Akira notices him panicking like a fool. Leandro will have to run away from him in the end, go back to fighting drones all by himself, and then die because he was too careless in a fight, having no one to protect him.

 

He’s being plagued by daunting thoughts until he hears a voice that makes him go back to reality, washing his anxieties away as fast as they came in the first place.

 

“ndro… _Leandro!”_

 

He feels a hand being placed on his shoulder, leaning into the touch as he steadies himself. Akira looks concerned, his pupils widening, drawing closer.

 

“Are you… okay? You seemed kind of focused on something, but then you started breathing all weird and I didn’t know if I should get your attention–”

 

Leandro carefully places his palm over Akira’s own, eyes illuminated in the light coming from the city lanterns. Smiling sorrowfully, he nods, and Akira knows it’s a silent _thank you._ He feels him pull away, but before he can, Leandro hastily grabs his wrist.

 

“Wait! I...”

 

The other boy’s expression morphs into a curious one, hand tightening; “Uh.. You...?”

 

“I want to be friends,” he says it with a look full of determination, “I want to get to know you better.”

 

“You.. want to be friends?”

 

“Yes! I mean, yeah.. I feel like… we’re a bit distant, y’know? And I’m not gonna lie, you seem like a cool guy, but all we ever do is argue… Not that I don’t like bantering with you, but I think… maybe we could talk about other things sometimes.”

 

“Oh,” Akira responds, expression saddening just slightly, head falling, and Leandro thinks he’s upset him, but then, “okay. I can… I can try to do that.” he nods, looking back up again as his lips curve slightly. He’s smiling; it’s clearly visible.

 

Before either of them can acknowledge what’s happening, Leandro is already launching himself at the boy, broad arms wrapping around his waist. Akira lets out the loudest shriek, both of them falling to the floor with a loud thud. Tilting his head upwards, Leandro grins when he sees that his new-found friend isn’t _too_ mad about basically being thrown to the floor. They both sit up, slightly pulling away, soft touches still lingering.

 

“Thank you. I’ve... never actually had a real friend before, despite my chattiness.” Leandro mumbles the last part; he knew his extroverted side was a bit too much sometimes.

 

“Me neither. But we’ll work on it. After all, we’re friends, right?”

 

With his heart threatening to burst at any moment, he smiles as wide as he can; “Right.”

 

  **iii. oath**

During his missions with Akira, Leandro learned quite a lot about him. For example, the reason he’s so insistent on fighting against the drones is because his brother, a well known fighter, was captured and he wishes to save him. However, they don’t talk about that topic a lot; it’s a touchy subject for Akira, and Leandro, being a respectful person, doesn’t ever bring it up.

 

But new discoveries weren’t always melancholic. Much to Leandro’s surprise, Akira had a sweet tooth. He wouldn’t have known this if it weren’t for them passing by a dimly lit convenience store one evening, the newest items displayed in a small booth. A pack of sweets caught Akira’s eye, and before he realized it, he was staring;

 

_“Hey, what’s caught your eye there?” Leandro stops in his tracks, peeking over Akira’s shoulder in curiosity._

 

_“Uh… Nothing. Nothing important; Let’s move on.”_

 

_He takes in the way the other’s cheeks have flushed from embarrassment, heat spreading down his neck. Usually, he’d leave it alone, but he feels awfully persistent today._

 

_“Nope! Nuh-uh, you don’t get to do that now, not anymore,” following Akira’s line of vision, he sees the sparkly decorated bag prickling his eyes. A mischievous grin finds itself on Leandro’s face, his eyes slenderly crinkling from the light, “ooh, candy! Never thought you’d be the type to like that. Guess you’re not the broody, bitter type I thought you were.”_

 

_Snickering, Akira responds; “It’s decent, I guess. I like to have it every once in a while.”_

 

_“Huh, really? You seemed to be staring pretty intensely at that one little bag. Pretty sure no casual fan would do that.”_

 

_“I wasn’t. I swear, I just think it’s…  fine.”_

 

_As if to get him to surrender, Leandro eyes him from head to toe, grinning slyly._

 

_“Fine! I admit it. I have a sweet tooth, I really like candy,” Akira yells a bit too loudly, “sugar helps me stay energized either way.”_

 

_“You should’ve just said so in the first place, then! See, I’ll buy some for you.”_

 

_Already on his way inside, he ignores Akira’s complaints;_

 

_“Wh– Leandro! Don’t go inside… It’s fine, really...” His companion follows suit, tugging the hem of his jacket with an uneasy looking expression; he probably feels slightly guilty._

 

_“Hey, don’t feel guilty about it. It’s my choice anyway.”_

 

_“...Thanks.”_

 

It’s a memory he looks back on fondly; ever since then, he’d treat Akira with sugary goods when they had the time.

 

One crucial thing he had learned about his teammate was that he would _always rush into battle without warning._ He was reckless, impulsive and far too brave than Leandro could have ever imagined. It was a good thing, but to a certain extent, because sometimes, it left him injured. He’d even sworn to cool down on the hotheadedness, acknowledged it was too much, yet whenever they were up against an enemy, it’s like there was never even a promise between them in the first place, like it never mattered to Akira at all.

 

So when they’re fighting for the nth time, backed into the corner of a dark little alleyway filled with debris, and Akira is within the drones’ line of fire, Leandro’s first instinct is to shove him out of the way before either of them get hurt.

 

Except, someone does. Leandro hopes it's him.

 

And it is.

 

He doesn’t register it until he can sense pain in the thigh of his left leg, bullet sharply piercing through a part of the soft skin, causing him to crouch down in discomfort while blood gently trickles down to the ground. A shriek (not his, surprisingly) echoes throughout the street before his trusted companion begins to attack the enemies, movements far too quick for Leandro to comprehend. In a flash, Akira concludes the fight, immediately rushing to his side after eliminating the last of their foes. There’s a loud thud, and then he senses the all too familiar feeling of Akira’s hands carefully tracing his wound.

 

They’ve both been hurt before, but not like this, not like _this,_ he thinks; the times where all they received from battles were a few bumps and bruises coming back to him in a rush. He groans whilst his partner is searching for _something_ to patch him up for the time being, but the sight of it looks distressing, so he swats his hand away to obtain a margin of his attention.

 

“What are you _doing,”_ the other hisses, staring at him in panic, _fear,_ he sees it, “I’m trying to _help you!”_

 

“Hey. ‘S alright, I’ll be fine.”

 

“It’s _not_ fine,” he responds, “I rushed into battle and now _you_ have to writhe in agony instead of me.”

 

A breathy chuckle escapes his throat, body holding still while his teammate fumbles around nearby; “I’m not writhing in pain. In fact, I’ve barely even moved a muscle.”

 

Akira wasn’t amused, instead panicking even further;

 

 _“Look,_ his isn’t the time for jokes, _okay?!_ I’m _worried_ about you! Stop pretending this isn’t such a big deal to _you,_ because it is to _me._ I’m scared. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t want to–”

 

“Listen, I’ll be okay. I just… wanted to protect you. I’m glad that I... took the hit instead of you.”

 

Feeling his torso grow numb and his eyelids beginning to flutter shut, Leandro reaches his hand out, hoping his touch would comfort Akira’s anxieties like Akira’s touch comforted his own. And he does feel it, right before blacking out; Akira’s frigid face on the palm of his hand.

 

After that, the world falls black.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The sound of a person shifting startles Leandro awake, time and place currently unknown to him. He assumes it’s Akira having trouble sleeping again in their hideout (it wasn’t uncommon for him to be awake most of the time).

 

Attempting to turn around and get a better view at him leads to Leandro groaning as a result of pressure shifting to his wounded thigh. He manages to do it, though, and he’s met with Akira’s disapproving look right after he shifts to a more comfortable position. Akira begins to speak.

 

“Good morning. I see you’ve slept as well as ever.”

 

“I passed out, if you don’t remember. Also, isn’t it nighttime?”

 

“Oh, you’re correct, actually,” he replies, sitting up straight, “did I wake you up?”

 

“Yeah,” Leandro nods, “but that’s okay.”

 

He expects Akira to apologize, say something, but to his surprise, there’s no response, just the sound of a train going off in the distance. They’re both staying silent, allowing awkwardness to fill the room. It’s not as though they’re uncomfortable with eachother again, but the stigma from their fight with the drones is making a return. He knows he should talk about it. After all, neither of them have been wounded this badly before.

 

It’s Akira who breaks the silence.

 

“Do you promise not to do something like that ever again?”

 

“What? No. I’m not apologizing for _protecting you._ I _wanted_ to protect you. I wasn’t going to allow you to get injured because you rushed into battle.”

 

Akira grows uneasy.

 

_“Oh.”_

 

“Yeah, _oh,”_ Leandro stiffens, fists clenching in anger, “you promised you wouldn’t do that anymore, but you did it again. Why should _I_ apologize for something _you_ did?”

 

“Because I knew the consequences of my actions.”

 

“You… wait, what?”

 

He sneers; “I’m hotheaded, but I’m not _stupid,_ Leandro. I rush into battle because I want to protect _you._ I’d rather take the hit, because I can’t allow myself to lose someone i care about.”

 

 _Care._ The word does something to his stomach. Of course they’d care about eachother; they’ve spent a while together now. Still, he can’t help but wonder why it makes him feel so strange.

 

“You should’ve told me, then! Now _I’m_ writhing in agony instead of _you.”_

 

“Heh,” Akira chuckles, “Think you’ll make it out alive?”

 

“Yeah,” _with you by my side, I’ll definitely survive,_ “maybe.”

 

**iv. feeling**

Leandro had a problem. One that couldn’t be solved by a simple clap of hands or the help of another person. It was real, it was _there,_ twisting and tugging at his heartstrings as if he were an insect trying to break free from a spider’s web. But the spider was watching closely, pulling him back at the slightest attempt of escape.

 

Akira was his spider, the one he allowed himself to fall for.

 

He had made numerous attempts to ignore those feelings, but to no avail. It was inevitable from the beginning, and he knew that all too well. He was fixated on Akira ever since they’d met in that clustered little alley, looking for escape.

 

Still, Leandro would try to dismiss the little thump in his chest whenever they talked (quite an annoyance, really, because it caused a great distraction in their usual interactions). He felt like a middle schooler having their first crush, except this was serious to him. It wasn’t the first one, he’d had his fair share of flings here and there, though nothing too sincere. However, Akira seemed different, more understanding than others, and Leandro appreciated that, so perhaps that was part of the reason he was drawn to him.

 

It wasn’t long before Akira started to catch on to his escapades. He was never good at hiding his feelings, much less the need for the things he wished for, but just this once he hoped to outsmart his partner, get his train of thought on the wrong track. A while had passed since their last mission, so Leandro was expecting a new one soon to distract himself.

 

Sitting on the cool concrete, he watches the sun rise at the crack of dawn, its rays blending in with the city’s artificial flashing lights. It’s not long before the sun’s fully up, and just then, Akira comes into view.

 

“Morning,” Leandro begins hastily, before Akira can say anything, “any missions today?” He asks nonchalantly, while mumbling a series of _please, please, please,_ because he desperately needs a diversion.

 

“There shouldn’t be. Coast’s been clear for a few days, so I thought we could take it easy today. How’s that sound?”

 

 _“Fuck,”_ a mumble, too inaudible to hear clearly, “uh, yeah, ‘s fine. Was looking forward to stretching my legs a bit anyway.”

 

“Alright then, let’s go.” Akira stands up, already marching on ahead without him.

 

“Right now? I could use more time to get ready,” he rolls out the first excuse on the tip of his tongue, “don’t wanna look like a wreck for our… outing.” _Nice save there,_ he thinks, his mind already going over the word date, _but it’s not a date,_ because they’re just friends and the only reason this is happening is because they have nothing to do.

 

“Don’t joke around, Leo,” _oh, we’re doing nicknames now? How jarring,_ “you look fine. ‘Sides, no one’ll be able to see us either way. Unless you’re trying to impress me.”

 

He chokes on his words; “Of course not.; let’s just go.”

 

“Whatever you say.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The two arrive at a fancy diner, though it’s nothing too flashy to the eye. There’s barely anyone inside (just like Akira had previously predicted) except a few people in the back; so they decide to position themselves in the front. Leandro allows his teammate to order (for some reason, he was incredibly persistent about it) as he lets himself space out, daydreaming about daily events.

 

Disrupting his pondering, Akira returns, slipping himself comfortably into the seat across his. There’s a glint in his eyes which Leandro can’t quite put his finger on; as though he’s not the only one deep in thought. He starts talking before he can stop himself;

 

“Are you okay? I mean, you seem pretty deep in thought.”

 

“Heh, you’re one to talk,” a hint of mischief in his voice, “been acting strange all day.”

 

“I guess… A lot’s on my mind.” And it wasn’t a lie at all, he was thinking and thinking about the nagging feeling in his chest, the desire to just pull Akira next to him and tell him all the things he wants to say.

 

“Well,” Akira lowers his head, voice turning more sincere, “you wanna talk to me about it?”

 

That sparks a certain sensation in him; contentment, _hope,_ even, so he decides to go for it.

 

“Yeah… Yes, actually.” He repeats more confidently.

 

“Go ahead,” a soft gaze meets his, full of understanding, and suddenly, all of his worries are gone.

 

_“I like you, Akira.”_

 

The world around him stops, but Leandro already knows what Akira's going to say next.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter.](https://twitter.com/cendriIIions)


End file.
